


Game Night

by Threatie, Wrespawn



Category: Gmod: Murder, Grand Theft Auto V, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Communication, Explicit Consent, Fake AH Crew, Fear, Guns, Immortal Fake AH Crew, Knifeplay, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Lindsay, OT6, Rape Roleplay, Safewords, Temporary Character Death, Trans Character, Trans Jack Pattillo, consensual murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 02:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threatie/pseuds/Threatie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrespawn/pseuds/Wrespawn
Summary: The respawn verse is getting an overhaul! This is the new canon version of this story. The old version is still available.On weekends, the Crew that can’t die likes to go somewhere secluded and kill each other for fun. The game is called Murder, and this is Jeremy’s first time playing.This takes place in the respawn verse.  The murder is not permanent.General warnings for this fic: Consensual gun violence and knife violence, consensual rape roleplay.More specific warnings are included at the start of each chapter.
Relationships: Everyone/Everyone
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings for this chapter: Light consensual hazing.

The beer can  _ clanged _ as a bullet blasted through it and ripped it off the table. It clattered to the floor alongside a dozen other bullet-punctured cans. 

Jeremy let out his breath as he lowered his pistol. Wind gusted across the empty lot as he reloaded his gun and raised it again. Three more cans sat on the table, labels glinting dully in the overcast daylight. Jeremy narrowed his eyes and aimed.

_ Bang _

Another can skittered off the table, a fresh bullet hole torn through its aluminum side. The action was meditative, the shooting range a good place to organize his thoughts. Jeremy adjusted his aim several degrees, sights locked on the next beer can. 

Guns felt different than they used to. More powerful, more thrilling. He could feel the weight of death in his hand as he lined up the shot. Jeremy hadn’t felt the same way about guns ever since he’d volunteered to experience one.

The privilege of an immortal, tasting death just for fun.

_ “Lindsay could really shoot you, you know.”  _

_ The bed was warm, Lindsay was warm on Jeremy’s lap, but their gun was cold against his forehead. Michael didn’t say the words like a threat, just a fact, sprawled casually next to them.  _

_ “You’d come back, after all. Just one little squeeze and you’d ruin our nice bed.” _

_ The gun was just a prop, one they’d all agreed to, one that made Lindsay’s breath heavy with excitement as they climbed onto him. Jeremy knew the safety was on. He knew Lindsay had no intention of pulling the trigger. He knew Michael was just dirty talking, pushing his buttons. _

_ “Yeah?” he panted. “You wanna shoot me for real, Lindsay? Go on, I’ll come back.” _

_ It was probably his boner that made him say the words, but he didn’t regret them once they were out.  _

_ For a moment, Lindsay froze, eyes dilated with excitement. It took them a moment to gather themself. “Wh-what, you mean right now? Before you nut?” _

_ “If you wait until after I nut, I’m gonna chicken out.”  _

_ BANG _

Another beer can flew off the wall. 

Jeremy exhaled. He popped the pistol open, loading new bullets. He’d need to get more beer cans at this rate. Excitement and nervousness fluttered in his chest, the type of jitters that only the tranquilizing focus of shooting could soothe. He’d been a mess of anticipation all day, waiting for evening to fall.

Geoff said that tonight was the night. Game night with the crew.

_ “What’s game night?” _

_ “Sort of a Fake AH Crew tradition,” Geoff explained over coffee. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not mandatory.” _

_ The kitchen was full of pleasantly slanting light, the midmorning sun warming the table beneath Jeremy's hands. Geoff with his bathrobe and slippers completed the cozy image, his hair mussed and tattoos softened by comforting familiarity.  _

_ “If it’s a game, how do we play?” Jeremy asked. _

_ Geoff scratched his beard for a few moments. Instead of answering, he finally said, “I heard you went skydiving the other night.” _

_ Jeremy’s stomach lifted and dropped, remembering the fall. As far as he knew, there was no rule among the Fakes specifically forbidding leaping out of helicopters without a parachute. All the same, there was something in Geoff’s tone that implied this wasn’t a normal question. Geoff didn’t look angry as he sipped his own steaming mug, but he was clearly waiting for something. _

_ “Yeah, I sure did,” Jeremy admitted. “Gavin’s idea.” _

_ “Ha, I’m sure it was!” Geoff cupped the floral coffee mug to his chest. “Did you have a good time?” _

_ “Good time? I plummeted to my death from a thousand feet in the air and I loved every second.”  _ _ Jeremy was surprised by the ease with which he spoke, the confirmation coming almost without thought. He remembered the wind against his face, the cold, that weightless sensation of falling… _

_ “That wasn’t your first recreational death, was it?”  _

_ “Nah, it was… uh…” Jeremy counted on his fingers, then stopped. “The Joneses are kinky bastards." _

_ "You don't have to tell me twice." _

_ "Though I’ve gotta admit, the skydiving hit harder. Why do you ask?” _

_ A pleased smile spread across Geoff’s face, framed by coffee steam. “There’s this game we like to play. It’s called Murder.” _

Evening sun glinted off the final beer can. It perched on the wall, silent and pristine, its silvery sheen calling to the lead in Jeremy’s gun. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Before the mechanism could click, a strange sound made Jeremy freeze. His gaze was drawn to the sky. The unmistakable whirring thrum of a helicopter was slowly growing louder. Jeremy turned, scanning the cloudy skies. His gun snapped up as he caught sight of a helicopter closing in. He took a breath, waiting. He could almost see the silhouette of the pilot through the glass.

The helicopter turned as it swooped in, and Jeremy lowered his weapon with a sudden laugh. There was no mistaking the big green star emblazoned on the side of that aircraft. When Jack had promised to pick him up for game night, she hadn’t mentioned what vehicle she’d be riding in. Jeremy slipped his pistol into its holster as the chopper touched down in a whirl of windswept leaves. 

The crew was all packed into the cramped cockpit, shoulder to shoulder. Now that the aircraft was closer, Jeremy could see Jack in the pilot’s seat.

“Get in, loser!” called Lindsay. “It’s game night!”

Jeremy grabbed Geoff’s hand, letting the man haul him into the crowded chopper. “Count me in!”

He flopped into the narrow space between Michael and Lindsay as the door was slammed shut. He briefly took in a pile of clutter between everyone’s feet — small metal boxes and handcuffs, it looked like — before the chopper lurched into the air and threw him back against his seat.

“Jack—” Jeremy leaned towards the cockpit. “I almost shot the shit out of you when I saw the chopper.”

“Jesus, Jeremy!” Jack twisted around in her seat for a moment, laughing despite the shock in her voice. “That trigger finger of yours needs to be stopped!”

“That’s not what you said last night!” Lindsay called.

“Look, I see weird vehicles, I point my gun.” Jeremy shrugged. “For all I knew, you could have been a bunch of douchebags from some gang.” 

Geoff chuckled. “And we’re not?”

“The chopper would have crashed and  _ everyone _ would have had to reset!” Jack pressed.

“Listen, I know better than to let my guard down when I’m out shooting.” Jeremy peered out the window and watched as the city dropped away below them. “So this is how we carpool for game night, huh?”

Lindsay seemed to be experiencing more joy than they could contain in their body. They wrenched Jeremy into a rigorous one-armed hug. “Gotta travel in style for game night!”

Jeremy returned the rough hug gladly. “So where’re we going? Where’s the game being held?”

Geoff clapped his hands together. “We’re doing the warehouse map this time! Reasonably straightforward, perfect for your first time.” 

“Oooh, that’s a good map. Big one, though.”

Gavin was bouncing with excitement. “Ooooh it’s gonna be Jeremy’s first game! I’m so excited!”

Jeremy glanced out the window. He could see the city receding in the distance as Jack flew them off into the rocky wilderness that surrounded it. 

His first game. He couldn’t wait.

_ “It’s called Murder.” _

_ “Felonies aren’t games, Geoff.”  _

_ Geoff laughed over his coffee. “Glad to know you take our heists seriously! Oh, but playing Murder… that’s all fun and games.” _

_ “So how does the game work?” _

_ “We go somewhere remote. One person plays the killer, everyone else plays a bystander. The goal is simple: don’t die.” _

_ Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat. _

_ “The game ends when--” _

_ “Hold up.” Jeremy interrupted. A strange chill was spreading up his spine. “When you say killer, you really mean… ” _

_ The kitchen didn’t feel so warm anymore. Geoff’s expression was calm, but his eyes were locked on Jeremy, watching. Jeremy could remember Lindsay’s gun against his forehead, the excited hitch in their breath. _

_ “…You really mean kill, don’t you?” he breathed. _

_ Geoff nodded. “I mean kill. Murder. Send back to the respawn room.” He set his coffee down. “Like I said before. It’s not mandatory.”  _

_ Jeremy stared into his own coffee. His heart was thumping with an excitement he couldn’t explain.  _

_ “...Tell me the rules.” _

The chopper tilted slightly, the landscape seeming to reel beneath them as Jack adjusted their course, and Jeremy was jolted out of his thoughts. 

“Jack’s flying us to the site right now.” Geoff was talking. Jeremy hoped he hadn’t missed anything important while spacing out. “She’s gonna drop us all off in different places and then she’s gonna join us. You’ll drop outside the warehouse, but once the game starts, you’re not supposed to leave it.”

“Geoff, I’ve gotta confess something.” Jeremy steepled his fingers for a moment. “Yesterday, I remember hearing you say ‘it’s a game where we kill each other’ and then I fucking blacked out while you explained all the boring rules. I’m gonna need a recap.” 

Geoff threw his hands up. “Jeremy! You said you were ready!”

“Just jog my memory, it’ll be fine!”

Geoff pressed his fingertips into the bridge of his nose. With a resigned sigh, he continued. “First off, you  _ moron,  _ take a communicator.” Geoff pointed to the pile of what appeared to be handcuffs on the floor. “Take one of these too.”

Jeremy picked up a com and one of the cuffs. He shot Geoff a smirk. “I thought you said this  _ wasn’t  _ a sex game, Geoff?”

“I beg your damn pardon!” Gavin protested. “Who says Murder isn’t a sex game?”

Geoff sighed heavily. “Take one of the boxes too, smartass, and don’t open it yet.”

Jeremy shrugged. He put his com in, clipped the cuffs to his belt, and picked up a box. It was metal, heavier than it looked, and about large enough to hold a handgun. The rest of the crew were grabbing objects off the floor as well, each member taking a box, a com, and a pair of cuffs.

“If I get an empty again, I’m gonna be pissed,” huffed Lindsay, glaring at their box as though it had wronged them.

Gavin pointed at Jeremy’s hip suddenly. “Oi, cheater! Jeremy’s cheating, you can’t bring that!”

Jeremy frowned. “…I can’t bring my dick to game night?”

“The pistol, dumbass.” Geoff held out his hand. “No bringing weapons into the ring. You better leave that on the chopper.”

Jeremy sighed and pulled the holster off his belt, handing it over to Geoff. Geoff placed it on the floor, where the piles of gear used to be. “All right, boxes and handcuffs. So how’s this all work?”

“Hang on.” Geoff slipped his com in his ear and pressed it. “Testing coms now. Testing.”

“Mine works,” said Gavin.

“Works.”

“Mine too.”

“Eyyyo!”

Each voice sounded off in Jeremy’s ear. He gave Geoff a thumbs-up. “All good. So, the rules?”

“The game is simple. The killer tries to kill everyone, and the bystanders try to stay alive long enough to build a gun and shoot the killer.”

“And how does building a gun work?”

Lindsay tapped Jeremy’s box. “Once we drop, look for more of these. They’ve got parts in ‘em.”

“Don’t get too excited, though.” Geoff finally grinned as he spoke, too excited to stay mad. “Bullets are limited, and if you shoot the wrong person, there’s a penalty.”

Michael lifted his pair of handcuffs, rattling them in Jeremy’s face. “A  _ bad  _ penalty!”

“What does that—”

“Okay, closing in on the first drop point,” called Jack from the pilot’s seat. Jeremy grabbed the wall for support as the aircraft lurched downwards. “Someone get ready.”

“Let Jeremy drop first,” suggested Lindsay. “It’s his first time.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy laughed. “Let me be the first to run, unarmed, into the murder-building.” As the start of the game drew closer, the excitement was beginning to sharpen into a crisp, bright fear that sparkled in his fingertips and narrowed his focus.

_ There’s this game we like to play. It’s called Murder. _

Geoff lifted a pointed finger. “Don’t be so pessimistic, you might not be unarmed!”

“What does that mean?”

Geoff wrenched open the helicopter door, and the noise of chopping blades flooded the cockpit. The ground was blissfully close below. Jeremy wheezed as Michael gave him a hard shove in the back.

“It means get the fuck out of the chopper.”

Jeremy stumbled as he hit the ground, but kept his balance. He turned back to the helicopter, and the crew, to see them waving.

His last glimpse before the game. Jeremy looked hard at each smiling face, his heart skipping. This was his last moment with them before they became killers. 

Geoff gave him a thumbs-up. “See you inside!”

With those final words, the door closed and the aircraft lifted away. 

Jeremy watched it sail away into the overcast sky, listening to the aggressive chopping thrum grow quieter. With a resolved breath, he turned his gaze to his surroundings. 

The city was a steely silhouette in the distance. Between Jeremy and the distant etchings of civilization stretched rocky terrain broken by scraggly trees, one or two dusty roads carving up the landscape. Clutching his box and handcuffs, Jeremy turned to face the warehouse. The structure was long since ruined, the old walls layered with graffiti, iron support beams exposed where concrete had cracked. Through the old doors and broken walls, he could see it stretching back, room after room into the darkness. Artificial lights glinted in the gloom, too crisp and clear to have been a part of the warehouse’s original installation. This space had been curated for a purpose.

Jeremy touched his com. “Uh. Testing?”

_ “Yeah, we hear you.” _

“Is someone going to explain what all these weird props are for?”

_ “I swear to god, Jeremy, I can’t believe I explained the entire game to you and you forgot everything.” _

“Hey, I remembered the killin’ part.” 

_ “Right, everyone shut up—” _

_ “Yeah, guys, shut the fuck up while Geoff explains the rules!” _

_ “…Thank you, Michael. Okay, so four of us are unarmed bystanders, one of us is a bystander with a gun, and one of us is the killer with a knife. Look inside your box to see which one you are.” _

Jeremy clicked the latch on his box and creaked it open. “Uh, guys? I think there’s a problem. Mine’s empty.”

_ “That means you’re an unarmed bystander,” _ provided Jack.

Lindsay scoffed through the com. _ “Suuuuuure it’s empty. Jeremy thinks he can pull one over on us.” _

_ “Jeremy’s the killer, guys!”  _ proclaimed Michael.

_ “I don’t know about that, Michael, he doesn’t even know the rules. That sounded pretty genuine.” _

Michael’s voice was unconvinced.  _ “Unless that’s what he wants you to think.” _

Jeremy adjusted his com and closed his box. “Michael, come on, I’m not that clever.”

_ “One more thing, Jeremy.”  _ Geoff’s tone had become serious.  _ “First, if you hear someone say ‘safeword’, even if it’s over coms, just freeze where you are. Likewise, you can call safeword to pause the game at any time. For any reason.” _

“Gotcha.”

_ “If anything about this just doesn’t feel good, you can leave the game or set a new boundary whenever you have to. Like I said before, this isn’t mandatory. You were listening when I said that, right?” _

Jeremy cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, I do actually remember that part.”

_ “And another thing: whether you’ve got a gun or a knife, keep your kills quick and clean. A bullet to the head or a knife to the throat, nothing creative. We’ll do the same for you. We can all sit down and talk boundaries later, but for now just keep it painless.” _

Kills.

The warehouse suddenly felt very big and very still. Jeremy’s gaze darted through the concrete maze looming before him. His breath was quick, shallow. Six crew members. Six pulses. One knife. 

“Shit,” he breathed, forgetting for a moment that he was wearing a com. “I’m... really gonna die in there.”

_ “Jeremy?” _

Jeremy almost jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice. He shook his head. “I-I’m cool, don’t worry.”

Jack’s voice was softened by concern.  _ “If you’re having second thoughts, there’s a live feed back at base. You could just watch your first round instead of participating.” _

“No! No, it’s okay!” Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “I’m… fuck… I’m good. I’m good. Just uh… shaking.”

_ “Scared?” _

“Excited.”

_ “Jeremy’s the killer, guys. Someone shoot him.” _

_ “Nuh uh. Michael’s got the gun and Michael ain’t puttin’ on no handcuffs. I’ll shoot Jeremy when I see him whip out a damn knife.” _

Jeremy’s hand was drawn to the cuffs on his belt, touching the cool metal uncertainly. “Right, about that… explain to me how this isn’t a sex thing?”

_ “Sometimes it’s a sex thing!”  _ Gavin piped up.

_ “The handcuffs are a disincentive,”  _ Jack explained patiently.  _ “If you fire a gun, you’d better be sure it’s the killer. Otherwise…” _

Something clicked, and a thrill raced through Jeremy. “You lose your weapon privileges, huh?”

Geoff laughed.  _ “More like your hand privileges. You shoot an innocent, you get to sit and wait for the killer to find you. On top of that, wasting your bullet screws over your team mates.” _

“Ouch. Remind me not to shoot the wrong person.”

_ “That’s on an honor system, by the way,”  _ Geoff added.  _ “And don’t go around cuffing people. You can only use them to cuff yourself if you shoot the wrong person, nothing else.” _

_ “So I guess the cuffs aren’t a sex thing,”  _ Gavin relented.  _ “...Or are they? Hee!” _

Lindsay’s voice interrupted with a loud groan.  _ “Agh dammit!” _

_ “Can we help you, Linds?” _

_ “Empty box again.” _

_ “Lindsay’s the killer.” _

_ “Thanks for believing in me. I’ll do my best, despite my lack of knife.” _

_ “So are we starting? Is everyone dropped?” _

_ “Yep, everyone’s dropped and I just parked the chopper. Game on!” _

Jeremy snapped his box shut, his pulse skipping like a flighty animal. He turned to the looming warehouse and took a deep breath. Look for boxes. Don’t die. Play the game called Murder.

_ “Good luck out there, lads, remember to always trust your boy Gavvy.” _

_ “Gavin, I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.” _

Jeremy stepped into the warehouse.

Ruined concrete closed around him. Jeremy scanned the broken walls and doorways as he picked his way around the rubble. The sterile lights cast strange shadows. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he stepped through a shattered hole in the wall and into the next room, leaving the daylight behind.

A soft, musical humming in his ear sent his skin crawling. It took him a few panicked heartbeats to realize it was Lindsay’s voice over the coms, singing.

_ “Scent and a sound, I’m lost and I’m found _ —”

Gavin sounded just as unnerved as Jeremy was.  _ “F-funny way of acting innocent, Lindsay!” _

_ “I’m on the hunt, I’m after you! It’s a song, Gav, sing along.” _

A question was probing at Jeremy’s mind. “Hey, uh, Geoff…”

Michael’s voice joined Lindsay’s, a duet that was more passionate than it was in tune.  _ “And I’m hungry like the wooooooolf!” _

“You said to keep kills simple,” Jeremy continued. “Does that mean that they ever get, uh…” Chilling adjectives came to mind. “...Complicated?”

Geoff chuckled as Michael and Lindsay mimicked barks and howls.  _ “Oh yes. Kills can get very... complicated. But we’ll get to that later. Just focus on living through your first game, yeah?”  _

_ “Yeah,”  _ Lindsay added, their voice still rough from fake-snarls.  _ “Fresh meat.” _

Jeremy swallowed as he peered around a corner and down a dusty hall. “S-sounds fun.” No sign of another living person. Cautiously, he crept down the hall, ducking under hanging chains. Between every breath, he listened for the crunch of another pair of footsteps picking through the rubble.

Jack’s voice was soft, but somehow not as comforting as Jeremy was used to.  _ “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll be gentle for your first time.” _

_ “No promises after that!”  _ Michael laughed.

Jeremy rounded a corner and almost collided with Gavin.

“Sh-shit fuck fuck fuck—” Jeremy reeled back to a safe distance as Gavin did the same. “H-holy shit, Gavin—” 

“If I die, it’s Jeremy!” Gavin yelped into his mic. 

Jeremy’s jaw tensed. “W-well if I die, it’s Gavin!”

“Steady on; if I were the killer, you’d already be dead!” 

Jeremy caught his breath. He could see Gavin doing the same. Fuck. This was how the game worked. Messy, panicked encounters like this, full of fear and desperation, ending in a gunshot or a meaty slice. It felt so chillingly real now, face to face with another person.

The game was called Murder, and these concrete floors were going to taste blood soon.

“ …Is something gonna happen, love?” Gavin ventured. “Gonna harm me in some way?”

Jeremy’s head was still spinning. “W-we’re cool so long as you move along.”

“Sure.” Gavin hesitated. “…Unless…”

“…Unless what?”

Gavin glanced around. He touched his mic, a gesture that Jeremy didn’t immediately recognize the purpose of.

“No one’s gotta hear us if we don’t want them to,” Gavin whispered. He leaned closer, though his feet kept a cautious distance between them. “Do you wanna, maybe...”

Although Gavin spoke, Jermey’s com was silent. It took Jeremy a moment to realize that Gavin had muted himself; whatever he was offering, it was for Jeremy’s ears only. The words sent a prickle of something delicious up Jeremy’s spine. 

“M-maybe do what?”

Gavin reached into his pocket, an innocent enough gesture that nonetheless made Jeremy tense, until that hand emerged holding a small, familiar bottle. Gavin tossed it across the space between them with a casual flick of his wrist, and Jeremy stumbled to catch it.

“Geoff might have neglected to equip you with that,” Gavin snickered.

Jeremy turned the bottle over and his face went red.  _ Personal lubricant,  _ read the bottle.

“Useful thing to have,” Gavin remarked, “if you wanna play Murder a certain way. Wanna play with me, love?”

Jeremy’s gaze jumped up. Gavin was nipping his lip, loose and playful in body language, but his eyes held an intensity that Jeremy rarely saw outside a heist.  _ ‘Yes’ _ lingered just behind Jeremy’s lips, a sudden dizzying need to step closer, to see what happened when he closed that gap. The urge to make deadly mistakes.

“Do you seriously think I’m going to fall for that?” he said instead, stalling.

“C’mon, I’m not gonna stab you. Not with a knife, anyway.”

“How do you know that I’m not the killer, huh?” Jeremy took another step back. “There’s only one way you could know for sure.”

“Love, I’ve got no clue if you’re the killer.” Gavin’s grin was unrelenting. “And if you are, well…” He drew a finger slowly across his throat, somehow managing to make the gesture lewd. “I don’t mind that either. You can play rough with me.”

Jeremy’s heart pounded and pounded. He squeezed the lube bottle until he felt the plastic buckle, unable to take his eyes off Gavin’s offered neck.

Geoff’s voice buzzed in Jeremy’s ear.  _ “Jeremy, who are you talking to?” _

Jeremy took a sharp breath to steady his voice. “I-it’s Gavin,” he said, maybe too quickly. He reached up to touch the com as though Geoff were a physical presence he could lay his hand on. “He’s being... weird.”

_ “Oh shit. Weird in a killer-y way?” _

“Yeah, might be weird in a killer-y way.”

Gavin held a finger over his smile. “Oh, I haven’t got the knife, Jeremy. But even if I did, I wouldn’t slit you this time. I wanna feel how much you jitter during your first game.”

Just the thought of trying to fuck in a place like this was making Jeremy dizzy. His heart was racing just  _ walking _ through the dark, dusty rooms. The thought of stepping within another person’s arm range, the dangerous distraction of fumbling with clothes… A rushed, panicked rut on the concrete, adrenaline burning through his veins, hushed breath and sweaty skin-on-skin, never knowing if the next breath would be the last…

Gavin’s voice was a hungry whisper. “Unless you’d  _ like  _ to get slit. Would you like that, Jeremy?”

Michael’s voice was rough over the com.  _ “So is Gavin the killer or not? Am I shooting him next time I see him?” _

Jeremy muted his mic. “Ask me back at headquarters,” he whispered to Gavin. He unmuted himself again, raising his voice to answer Michael. “He hasn’t pulled out a knife but I’m not gonna complain if you gun him down.”

Gavin casually flicked his mic back on. “You’d better not, Micoo,” he sang. “If you make me miss Jeremy’s first game, I won’t be a happy Gavvy.”

_ “Keep your knife in your pants and I won’t have to.” _

Throwing Jeremy one more flirty wave, Gavin turned on his heel and strode away. Five steps away, then ten, then twenty. With every step, Jeremy expected something to go wrong. Something to happen. Jeremy watched Gavin walk away, heart in his throat, until Gavin slipped around a corner and disappeared from view. He let out a harsh breath, rubbing a hand over his face. They’d met, they’d parted, and no one had died. 

_ “Jeremy? Gavin? Did one of you kill the other?” _

_ “I’m alive,”  _ Gavin responded, now only audible through Jeremy’s com.  _ “Guess our newest killer couldn’t get his knife up for me.” _

Jeremy looked down at the bottle of lube in his hand, then shoved it in his pocket. It might not be a gun part, but he somehow felt armed in a way he hadn’t been before. 

“I’m alive too,” he announced. With one more breath, he turned around and almost collided with another person for the second time.

“What were you and Gavin talking about?” Geoff asked placidly.

Jeremy jolted back, hurrying to give himself distance. “J-jesus, how long have you been looming there?”

Geoff shrugged. “Not long. Gavin asked to fuck, huh?”

It wasn’t any less terrifying the second time, being face-to-face with another person in Murder. Jeremy could feel his own heartbeat. He swore he could almost feel Geoff’s.

“Y… yeah.” Jeremy shifted slightly, feeling more aware of his body the longer Geoff looked at him. “And, uh… I think he was talking about…” He swallowed. “Killing  _ while  _ fucking.” 

“Well…” Geoff smiled. “I  _ did _ say kills could get complicated, didn’t I?”

Jeremy kept forgetting to breathe. Geoff was close, closer than he’d allowed Gavin to get. He kept waiting for one of them to step further away. Neither of them did. He wondered if Geoff’s com was muted.

Geoff’s voice was soft. “Why? Are you interested?”

Jeremy licked his dry lips. “I… I might be.”

Geoff took a step closer. His expensive shoes were nearly silent on the bare concrete. Jeremy couldn’t breathe as Geoff took another step. He jolted as Geoff’s hand lifted, but all it did was point at something behind Jeremy.

“Are you gonna get that gun part?” Geoff asked.

Jeremy turned, caught a glimpse of a metal box sitting on the table behind him, then spun back towards Geoff. “A-all yours,” he mumbled. He didn’t step out of the way.

For a moment, Geoff didn’t move, watching Jeremy with an unreadable expression. Then, he took a step towards the table, then another. It was trust, risk. Jeremy held his breath as Geoff stepped closer. Fuck. Arm range. He was too tense to move as Geoff closed the gap.

Geoff’s shoulder brushed Jeremy as he passed. Jeremy tensed, chest heaving slightly, and Geoff stepped past him.

Fuck.  _ Past him. _ Geoff touched him, and nothing happened. 

For a moment, the air seemed perfectly still. Jeremy swallowed. He reached slowly into his pocket, closed his hand around the knife, and flicked the blade open.

He had to do it now.  _ Now _ . Before Geoff turned around. Before he saw the knife.

“That’s my second gun part,” Geoff announced to his com, his back turned to Jeremy as he opened the box. “Well on my way.”

Now.  _ Now _ .

Jeremy cursed under his breath and grabbed Geoff from behind, slapping a hand over his mouth and flicking the knife up under his jaw, blade pressed against his throat.

_ Slit him open. _ Jeremy’s breath was heavy against Geoff’s shoulder, his hand shaking, the knife wobbling on Geoff’s neck. He could feel Geoff’s breath muffled against his palm, quick and terrified, his body frozen with alarm.  _ One quick slice. Blood everywhere. Kill him kill him kill him. _

Jeremy’s knife wouldn’t move. 

Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . What was holding him back? Was he losing his nerve? His first game night with the crew, and he couldn’t play on their level? No, that couldn’t be it, because this didn’t feel bad. This felt  _ good _ . So good it was paralyzing, debilitating euphoria. He could hear Geoff’s breath, feel him trembling where they were pressed together. Geoff’s hands were lifted in surrender, gun parts dropped to the floor. Solid, warm, helpless,  _ his _ .

He didn’t want to kill Geoff yet. Didn’t want it to be over. Didn’t want to stop feeling this high, the press of a terrified body against his, the panicked heat of muffled breath against his palm. He wanted to savor this.

He wanted what Gavin had offered him. 

Jeremy leaned close to Geoff’s ear, the one without a com in it. He whispered, too soft for his own mic to pick up, barely breathing the words.

“What about you, boss? You wanna fuck before you die?”

Jeremy could hear Geoff’s breathing, muffled and rapid with fear. This wasn’t his first time pressed up against that lean, tattooed body, and it wasn’t his first time calling the shots with Geoff, but there had never been a knife involved before. Especially not a knife that Jeremy intended to  _ use.  _ Geoff had agreed to that part when the game started, but this was…

Jeremy almost didn’t realize that Geoff was nodding, frantic movement pinned under his hand. For a moment he forgot to breathe, forgot what to do next. It was only a moment before instinct took over.

“Drop your pants,” Jeremy whispered. “And don’t scream.”

He slid his hand off Geoff’s mouth. 

The next few seconds were some of the most terrifying of Jeremy’s life. Geoff’s announcement of the new gun part confirmed that his com wasn’t muted. It was right there in his ear, waiting to pick up any sound that escaped his lips.

Geoff swallowed. He lowered his hands, and silently, started undoing his pants.

Holy fuck.

Jeremy’s head was spinning as Geoff’s pants dragged down, sudden bare skin against his clothed body. He kept his knife against Geoff’s throat. Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . He’d have to slice  _ quick _ if Geoff tried to say anything. It would only take a fraction of a second to get out three accusing syllables. 

_ Jer-em-y. _

Then everyone would know, and every gun in the warehouse would be trained on his head.

As long as Geoff’s throat was intact, he could still rat Jeremy out. The knowledge should have moved Jeremy’s knife, but instead it moved his other hand, fumbling to get his pants open. This was more than just a head-spinning power trip, his arousal was so intense it seemed to throb in his skull. He groaned as he slipped his dick out, letting it sandwich between their bodies, pressed against Geoff’s ass.

“Gavin said I might need this.” Slowly, keeping the knife at Geoff’s throat, Jeremy slid his other hand down to retrieve the second item from his pocket, pressing it into Geoff’s unresisting hand. “Show me how much you wanna keep breathing. Finger yourself.”

Geoff’s hand shook as he took it. “Sh-should have known you’d be a natural at this,” he whispered. His voice quivered, half terror and half awe.

Jeremy’s jaw tensed. “Don’t get clever, boss.”

The pop of the lube bottle opening felt like a gunshot. Jeremy’s heart pounded as Geoff took longer to lube his fingers than Jeremy had ever seen him take before. He could feel Geoff’s slick fingers reach between their bodies, bump against his dick, then press into the crease. Geoff’s breath hitched as his fingers slid inside.

“Ah—” Geoff bit his lip hard to muffle the noise. “Nnnh…”

The sound of a voice over the com almost stopped Jeremy’s heart.

_ “Anyone dead yet?” _

_ “Well, I’m not dead.” _

_ “Nope.” _

_ “Me neither.” _

Jeremy swallowed. “Not dead over here.” His voice almost broke. He could feel the shift in Geoff’s knuckles tattooed against his dick, hear the soft slick noise of fingers working. 

_ “Anyone besides Michael got a full gun yet?” _

_ “I’m getting real close.” _

Jeremy groaned and rolled his hips against Geoff’s ass. “I’m getting close too.”

_ “The killer’s really laying low this round.” _

“Bend over the table,” Jeremy whispered against Geoff’s neck.

_ “Ghhhhh I don’t like it! I just want someone to die just so something happens!” _

_ “You want me to shoot you, Gavin? I can make something happen.” _

Geoff’s hand pulled out from between their bodies. His fingers were still slick, leaving a smear on the rusted metal table as his white knuckles gripped it. Geoff leaned forward, as much as he could with the knife at his throat, and pressed his hips back against Jeremy’s dick.

It felt like begging. Begging for cock, begging for his life. Jeremy was only going to give Geoff one of those things.

It was a fumble to get his dick inside with his hand shaking so hard. Jeremy buried his face in Geoff neck with a groan as he finally sunk inside. Oh fuck.  _ Fuck _ . Warm and tight and slick, and his to use however he wanted. He could hear Geoff struggling to keep quiet, hear muffled grunts and half-whines as he slowly sunk in.

_ “Shit, guys, Geoff’s been real quiet. Geoffrey, are you dead?” _

Jeremy’s heart shot into his throat and he froze. His shaking hand pressed the knife harder against Geoff neck.

“Geoff?” he ventured. “Say something if you’re alive.”

Geoff’s breath seemed to stop. Jeremy’s chest heaved as he waited.

“…I-I’m alive,” Geoff said at last.

_ “Jesus, man, it sounds like you’re trying to give CPR to your mic. What the fuck are you doing over there?” _

Jeremy shuddered as he rolled his hips with sudden urgency. “Is it the killer, Geoff?” He hoped that the tremor in his voice sounded like fear. “Is someone after you? Who is it?”

Geoff swallowed, his hands shaking against the table, his jaw tense. “N-no, no chase happening here,” he stuttered. “Just —o-out of breath from climbing that damn ladder looking for gun parts.”

_ “Huh, didn’t know there was still a ladder on this map.” _

“Yeah,” Geoff ground out, nearly whining, “W-weird, huh?”

Jeremy dug the knife in until Geoff winced in pain. “Are you  _ sure _ it’s not the killer, Geoff?”

_ “Found another gun piece!” _ called Jack.  _ “Just need a barrel and I’m armed!” _

_ “Ah piss, I haven’t got a damn one!” _

Geoff’s whimper of frustration was so satisfying that Jeremy almost groaned into his mic. It was getting harder and harder not to let sounds of pleasure slip through his teeth. Geoff’s was so tight, tense thighs shaking under Jeremy’s thrusts. That panicked pulse must be racing against the keen edge of his blade, tender and vulnerable…

“Nnnh—” Jeremy’s breath was getting heavy. “O-oh fuck—”

_ “What? Who’s cursing? What’s going on?” _

_ “I think Jeremy’s about to jizz.” _

Jeremy shuddered and his hips twitched. “Sh-shut up, Lindsay—”

_ “Speaking of Jeremy, where the hell is he? I haven’t seen him once.” _

Geoff was half-snarling, half begging into the mic. “K-keep looking, he’s — ah — around here somewhere!”

_ “Those must be some ladder you’ve found, Geoff; it sounds like it’s blowing you.” _

“Oh f-fuck me—” Geoff’s frustration dragged out of him in a long whine.  _ “ _ P- _ please _ —”

The  _ please _ was too much. The pleasure crested, and Jeremy’s desire to fuck was suddenly eclipsed by a desire to  _ cut _ .

The knife slashed across Geoff’s throat, cutting through skin and meat and hitting bone. Geoff made a noise, a choked-off wet gasp. Jeremy made a noise too.

“A-ahhh—!” Jeremy’s hips jerked, pressing hard against Geoff as he came with blood gushing over his hand. “Oh  _ fuck _ —”

_ “What happened? Is someone dead?” _

“Nnnnnnh—” Jeremy almost dropped the knife as his dick throbbed. He pressed his face into Geoff’s neck, shaking in the aftershocks. “N-nothing, nothing happened— oh  _ fuck _ —”

_ “Oh no. I don’t like how that sounds.” _

Jeremy staggered back, and Geoff slumped to the floor. In a daze, he tucked his still-twitching dick back into his pants. His gaze drifted down, and the remaining air left his lungs.

“Oh… fuck…”

The rush hit him like a sledgehammer, more intense than the orgasm had been. Jeremy’s chest heaved as he stared at the limp body at his feet. Each heartbeat was a deep, body-shaking pump that made his vision reel. The blood was hot hot hot, pouring like sweet wine down his arm as the knife wobbled in his hand. 

Fuck… _ fuck… _

A gasp made Jeremy’s gaze snap up.

In the cracked concrete hall stood Jack, her shocked gaze jumping from Jeremy’s face to her husband’s limp body. Jeremy’s hand tightened around the knife and blood dripped from his knuckles.

“Hi, Jack.”

Jack bolted. Jeremy tore after her through the halls, footsteps pounding.

“It’s Jeremy, it’s Jeremy, Jeremy’s the killer!” Jack was shouting into her com as she ran. “He’s right behind me! He’s covered in Geoff’s blood, it’s definitely him, shoot him!”

Michael’s voice snarled through the mic.  _ “I goddamn knew it! Jeremy you sneaky little bastard!” _

A wild smile was overtaking Jeremy’s face as he raced through the warehouse after Jack, knife dripping in his fist. “Hey, Michael? Guess what.”

_ “What?” _

“Turns out I  _ am _ that clever.”

_ “You motherfucker.” _

“Yeah, my box wasn’t empty.”

“Michael, hurry!” Each of Jack’s shouts sent fresh throbs to Jeremy’s dick. “His knife is out, he’s right behind me!”

“What’s wrong, Jackie?” Jeremy’s foot skidded on the filthy floor as he shot around a corner. “Come back, sweetheart, lemme slit your pretty—”

Michael stood at the end of the room, a pistol trained on Jeremy’s head. Jack stood behind him, sheltered, still gasping from the chase.

Jeremy skidded to a stop. “Shi—”

Michael fired.

\----

Jeremy opened his eyes.

The clone pod was a gentle nest around him, the glass top already open. He could hear muffled roars of laughter, not quite loud enough to drown out the soft hum of the clone pods. Jeremy sat up, blinking away the softness. The big screen in the corner of the room was lit up with views of the warehouse, and in front of it stood…

_ Geoff _ .

His back was to Jeremy, just like it had been before Jeremy pulled out the knife. He was dressed in the simple spare clothes that the respawn room provided. As Jeremy sat up, Geoff turned around and smiled while voices cheered over the coms.

_ “Holy shit, that round ended out of nowhere!” _

_ “Michael got him in one shot!” _

Lindsay’s voice pushed through the cheering. _ “Whoa whoa whoa, what happened? Who died? Is it over?” _

_ “Michael shot that murderous bastard Jeremy!”  _ Jack cheered.  _ “My hero!” _

_ “I can’t believe Jeremy was the killer on his first round ever!” _

_ “So Jeremy was the killer?” _

_ “Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure he was the killer,”  _ Michael drawled.  _ “He was holding a knife and covered in blood. Hey, Jeremy, get your respawned ass over here and tell Lindsay you were the killer, because evidently they didn’t hear when you fucking announced it earlier.” _

Geoff leaned towards a mic. “Jeremy’s a little dazed right now, but he was definitely the killer.”

_ “Did you get got, Geoffers?” _

“I got got.” Geoff leaned back from the mic, speaking now just to Jeremy. “That was a hell of a first game, lil J. Even if you only got one kill.”

Jeremy smiled as he swung his legs out of the clone pod. “Yeah, but it was a damn good kill.” 

“It sure was. You’re savage.”

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Mm-hm. I also liked watching Michael gun you down like a rabid dog.”

“Pssh.” Jeremy strode to the shelf of clothes. He grabbed a pair of boxers. “You know what I liked? Cutting your throat while I came in your ass.”

“Ah, touché.” Geoff crossed his arms, a small motion that Jeremy had seen him do dozens of times, achingly familiar. “Well… you didn’t beat the crew, but you beat me. You should be proud.”

Jeremy pulled a shirt off the shelf, but didn’t move to put it on, his gaze snagged.  _ Geoff _ . It was too much, suddenly, just to see him standing there. To see the shift of breath in his chest, hear his familiar low voice, see his neck unbroken by a slash of gore. No trace of the knife Jeremy had sliced through his throat.

Geoff’s brow pursed. “What, is something on my face.”

Jeremy looked away quickly. He tugged the shirt on. “Sorry. Uh. It’s good to see you standing, that’s all.”

A look of awe was spreading across Geoff’s face. “Oh my god. That was your first time, wasn’t it?”

“I mean… that’s the first time I’ve fucked you  _ today… _ ”

“No, I mean that was your first murder.” Geoff crossed the room, stepping close to Jeremy. “That was your first time killing one of us. A Fake. Wasn’t it?”

There were no knives here, no guns, no concrete jungle hiding killers, but Jeremy’s heart was thumping all the same. The look Geoff was giving him felt more intense than any bedroom look.

“Did it feel good?” Geoff murmured.

Jeremy swallowed. “Felt like being alive.”

“Damn.” He could hear the soft hitch in Geoff’s breath. “Everyone is gonna be  _ so _ jealous that I got to pop your cherry.”

The crackle of Jack’s voice over the com pulled both of their gazes back to the screen.

_ “You guys wanna reset and go another round?” _

_ “Yeah!” _

_ “Let’s do it!” _

_ “Hey, Jeremy, what did you think? You like playing Murder?” _

Jeremy crossed the room to the screens. He could see different views of the warehouse, his buddies scattered through the complex. His fresh new body wasn’t flooded with adrenaline yet, but he could already feel his heart rate picking up.

He leaned towards the mic with a smile. “Let’s start the next round.”


End file.
